Revenge
by DreamTailor
Summary: Everything, everything he had learned, he had gone through, he had endured, was for his father. But only for his father's sake. Why, then, would his father have wanted to see him now? He was a murderer, his hands stained with blood. Ezio oneshot


Ezio slid under the dark shadows cast by the tall, sombre buildings. He crept silently through the poorly cobbled alleyways and walked down the quiet streets of Venice like a ghost; he could easily be mistaken for one if he were to be seen, his white hood and shirt gave an ethereal glow in the moonlight. This spirit, though, sought revenge, a revenge so deeply embedded in his soul that he would take it and its mysteries beyond the grave.

* * *

The occurrence, or rather conspiracy, had happened a mere six months ago, to the day, in fact. Ezio led a normal life, well, normal for a noble that is. His father was a banker and had brought fortune to the family; they had gained a social life, lived in luxury, and sat at the table with royals and scholars. His father bought his mother and sister beautiful gowns of satin and lace, which made all the heads in the market square turn and stare, and had sent Ezio to the best university in Italy, were he could charm the wits out of any woman. Ezio then studied banking under his father, intent on joining him in the business.

His father was a respected man, and he worked well with people and gained the trust and admiration of almost all of Florence, where they lived. But being a prominent figure in the area brought dangers to the family. Some people disagreed with his methods, or were angry when Ezio's father would not deal with them and their monetary affairs.

The family had grown accustomed to the constant threats the low lives and beggars sent them, and turned their faces from shaking fists and crude writings when they appeared. Perhaps they had been too ignorant, too selfish, and too blind to the happenings around them. Though the threats were obvious, no one could have foreseen the destruction of the noble family. It was not the beggars, the poor or the critics that had finally overthrown Ezio's father, it was the family itself.

His father's own brother, Ezio's uncle, along with a few of his cronies, had approached Ezio and his father when they were walking home from the bank one evening. Ezio's uncle was a tall, well build man, with a short beard and a red cross pinned to his front. Ezio couldn't remember his uncle ever being without that cross on the front of his shirt, it was his symbol, he supposed.

Ezio's father had, perhaps out of instinct, stepped in front of Ezio while he chatted casually with his uncle. The conversation had become ugly quite quickly, though, when his uncle accused his father of being over ambitious, greedy, and evil. His father, while not arguing these claims, remained calm and polite, trying to reassure his uncle that selective banking was better than general banking.

His uncle had become upset at this, and Ezio soon learned the reason why. His father had turned his uncle down due to his uncle's financial problems. His father also refused to loan money to his uncle to help him out of his debts, which Ezio found to be quite cruel of his father. His uncle was family, why would his father not help him? Something was not right. That couldn't be the reason for this anger . . .

He did not learn his father's reasoning, for the next instant, there was a flash of silver and a loud, ear piercing_ bang. _His uncle held a silver hand gun, the muzzle smoking, and the air filling with the scent of gunpowder. Ezio watched helplessly as his father toppled forward, crimson blood staining his brown overcoat.

His uncle aimed the gun at him next.

Ezio dived out of the way as the next shot whizzed past him, and, without wasting a second, got up and sprinted down the nearest alleyway, the heavy footfalls of his uncle's men behind him. Zigzagging through the empty streets, he headed back to the estate, where his mother and sister were waiting eagerly for his and his father's return.

He ran up the marble steps to the giant oak doors, which were surrounded by great white pillars. Shoving the doors open, he looked around the immense entrance room for his family. The hall was paved with a long, burgundy carpet, statues and painting lined the walls, watching passerbies. At the end of the hall rose an iron staircase, leading to the second floor. Ezio walked briskly down the hall as to not alarm the two girls if they were near. He passed the office, peering in. He continued when he did not find them there. He also checked the living quarters on his way past,but they were not there either.

Reaching the stairwell he climbed, now desperate to find the two. Upon reaching the top of the stairs he ran down the corridors, looking in every door. Suddenly he heard quiet laughter in his father's boardroom. Ezio flew to the doors, opening them hastily.

Ezio's mother and sister jumped and turned with fright, and he was questioned on his rash behaviour. His mother became startled, and asked where his father was when she did not see him enter. Ezio couldn't answer though, his breath became short, he couldn't seem to catch it, his knee's felt weak and his head swam. The room started to swirl and blur, fading from sight. It was like a great weight had suddenly crashed upon him, and his knees, unable to take the burden, buckled. Through the window he saw small, twinkling lights on the street, and the shout of many voices. He recognized his uncle's voice. The world flickered once more, and the last thing he heard was his mother calling his name.

"Ezio . . . _Ezio!"_

* * *

Ezio awoke that morning, his sister by the bedside. He was in his bedroom, swathed in sheets and with a damp cloth resting upon his forehead. He looked wearily to his sister, whose eyes were red, dried tear stains streaked her face; she clutched a handkerchief tightly in her hand.

His sister told Ezio about what had happened after he collapsed. Their uncle had come to their door with the body of their father, claiming that their father had been mugged and murdered. Their uncle then wove a tale that he and a few men had been in a building not far off, and had witnessed the accident. Having rushed to the streets, he saved Ezio from death at the robbers hands, but Ezio, confused and distressed by his father's death, ran off, back to the house.

Ezio was shocked. Getting out of bed and taking his sister, he rushed to find his mother. She was in the living room with their uncle, sobbing into his chest. Ezio began to accuse his uncle of murdering his father, but his uncle retaliated, telling his mother that he was ill from his experience. Ezio again tried to tell his mother the truth, but his uncle once more cut him off, telling him he needed rest, and that the shock would pass. A third time he accused his uncle, and his mother ordered him out of the room. This blow had hit Ezio the hardest, and he left with his sister quietly. From behind the doors Ezio heard his uncle reassuring his mother that he would be fine, though he would be sure to call a doctor later in the afternoon.

Defeated, Ezio went back to his chambers. Sitting on his bed, he resolved to tell his sister the story. After hearing the tale and the sincerity of his words, his sister lifted his head and looked him in the eye, whispering quietly,

"I believe you."

* * *

The days turned into weeks and the weeks to months. His uncle had stayed with his mother, comforting her. His mother began to seek refuge in her brother-in-law, and clung to him. He deceived her, tricked her into a false relationship, and soon grasped her heart in his hands. Through his lies he had suppressed Ezio, and shorty after gained control over his father's bank. Later on, his uncle wed Ezio's mother, and took control of the family.

Ezio tried several more times to convince his mother that their uncle had deceived them and murdered their father, but his mother's love for his uncle grew stronger, and as that grew, his uncle's tainted words also became stronger. His uncle had bribed a doctor to diagnose Ezio with a mental illness, and Ezio was given pills to 'help with the pain'. Ezio responded by throwing the cursed tablets out of the window.

One evening Ezio had taken a knife from the dinner table. After supper, he found his uncle in the commerce room, alone. But his uncle spotted Ezio's shadow holding a silhouette of a knife, and took a silver pistol from his belt, the same pistol that had shot Ezio's father, pointing it at Ezio. He dropped the knife.

After this, his uncle beat him, laughing at his futile attempts. He locked Ezio away in the library, deeming him 'dangerous,' and, 'unfit for the public.' It wasn't long before the story of Ezio's attempted murder spread across Florence. Ezio once escaped from the window, only to be caught and brought back by the city guard, who also recognised him as 'mentally ill'. Ezio was successful ridding a guard of his two front teeth.

Now Ezio sat on the floor of the great library, looking out of the barred windows that cut the morning light, making the room appear as one giant cage. In this cage he paced, back and forth, like a mad beast. He felt nothing but anger, sorrow and betrayal.

After the fifth day of his imprisonment, he had read two full shelves of books, since there was never anything to do to pass the time in his cage. Most of these were information books and encyclopaedias, which he studied ravenously, trying to find something, anything that would help him plot his next move. He found it ironic, going mad while becoming smart. Throwing the last book on the shelf into a pile of 'read' books, he sighed and rubbed his temples. A massive headache was setting in.

He lifted his eyes to the third bookcase, intending to begin again, when his eye caught a book on in the middle of the second shelf. It looked extremely old, its leather bound spine tearing down the middle and yellow pages stuck loosely out of the top. Standing up, he walked over to the shelf, carefully pulling it from its crevice. On the cover was a sort of silver, metal insignia, like a large 'A' without the bridge. It looked rather well kept compared to the rest of the text. Tearing his eyes away from it, Ezio carefully opened the book, a few pages fluttered lazily to the floor.

He sighed as he looked upon the words, which were written in a strange foreign language. _Too bad,_ he thought, throwing it into the pile of books and reaching for another, _might've been interesting._

Another week had passed, and most of the shelves of the great library had been torn apart. Ezio now busied himself with learning languages with dictionaries, his boredom nearly driving him insane. He had not seen his uncle or mother in two weeks, but his sister came twice a day to bring him meals and words of encouragement. After she left he would resume reading, trying to find out where everything went wrong. He picked up the Bible.

Yet still, something would twinge in the back of his mind, he wasn't sure if it was a calling or a haemorrhage. His mind kept wandering back to the old, moth-eaten book. He wanted to know what it said quite badly, and he was running out of reading material.

After a few minutes of digging, Ezio recovered the strange text from the mountain of books in the center of the library. He quickly leafed through its crinkled pages, stopping to examine strange diagrams and symbols. There were pictures of crosses and feathers, instructions on how to jump and roll, pictures of people hiding behind walls, pick pocketing and eavesdropping. Truly, this was the strangest book he had ever laid eyes upon. How on earth did his father get it?

He then went to the dictionaries, trying to find out what language the book was written in. After a quarter of an hour searching, he pulled out an Arabic dictionary. The symbols matched the text of the book quiet well. Ezio started at the beginning of the book, the dictionary in front of him, and translated the title on the first page.

'_**Assassin's Creed**_.'

* * *

For weeks, Ezio studied this strange book, the only book in the entire room that had shed a light which served as the needle for his compass. A way to avenge his father? Become an Assassin and learn the art of the kill.

The book taught him the basics of free running, blending into a crowd and fighting. Ezio took special interest, though, in the device called a 'hidden blade'. A blade hidden in ones sleeve or gauntlet, released by the pull of a trigger, the deadliest of all assassination tools.

He studied the charts and diagrams, and, using materials from around the library, built a model of one of these weapons, minus the knife (which he substituted for a writing quill). It had taken days to build, let alone find the right materials, but it was a success, and he marvelled at the complexity of it; how it slid smoothly and quietly from its hiding spot, ready and lethal. The book stated as a tradition a finger was sacrificed for the blade, but Ezio made modifications to the device, seeing as he was quite fond of all of his digits.

Another week had passed with Ezio studying the book, soaking up its information like a sponge. It was late one night when he felt he was finally ready to use this knowledge. Taking the quill, he shaped it so that the point was thin and flat. Making sure that no one was outside, he began to work at the lock, and smiled slightly when he heard a small click. Ezio pushed the doors open.

All was still in the dark house, boards creaked as the building settled on its foundation, and heavy breathing resonated through the walls. Tucking the book under his arm, he walked down the hall and to the front doors. Taking a deep breath, he opened them and stepped outside for the first time in months. The fresh air filled him with happiness, it felt so wonderful. Ezio was filled with energy and newfound strength.

He began to practice some new skills and free running, taking small, short leaps across walkways and over boxes. He tried sneaking in alleys, and found a prostitute talking to a man on a dimly lit corner. Skimming the book for tips, he tried listening in on the conversation, but stopped once he found out what they were chatting about.

After 'playing' for a little while, he perked up when he heard footsteps in the darkness. Ezio strained his eyes to see who or what it was. Though he couldn't see exactly who it was, a strange red glow seemed to be coming from the shadowed figures. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he felt an almost animal like instinct kick in. Whoever they were, no doubt about it, they were trouble. Ezio quickly hid from sight and waited for them to pass.

As they got nearer, Ezio recognised them as city guards. If he was caught at this hour he would've been killed. Waiting until they were out of sight, he raced back home, having had enough adventure for one night.

During almost each night after that, Ezio picked the lock and snuck out of the house to hone his Assassin skills. After practice, he would go back to the estate and relock himself in the library, often spending the last shadows of the night reading the book by candlelight.

His uncle had begun to let Ezio out of the library by day due to the constant pleaded of Ezio's sister, and sometimes his mother. He took this time to build a second hidden blade, one for each arm, and equipped with a proper blade. he then went in search of some traditional assassin dress. In his wardrobe he found a red striped vest with white hood. It was a little longer and baggier, being a noble's clothes, but it was close enough. It was light, which would help with free running, and he could wear it and still be seen as a noble among the other citizens.

One day, Ezio was bold enough to sneak into his uncle's room. He rummaged around in the drawers for a bit, finding some legal documents, an invitation to a masquerade and a few handwritten, illegible notes. His hand slid over something, cold and smooth. Wrapping his fingers around its frame, he pulled out a silver pistol. THAT silver pistol. He heard footsteps coming up the stairwell and quickly tucked the gun in his sleeve. Ezio left the room, and began to walk down the hallway just as his uncle turned the corner. Ezio dared to look back at him, darkness filling his face. His uncle was encased in a red glow.

Ezio was still locked in the library during the nights, which he escaped from shortly after. If he was not practicing, he was plotting against his uncle. He later found that the silver insignia on the book cover could be removed, and he took this and fastened it to his belt. He had also found another interesting insignia. A red cross, the symbol of the Templars, who were enemies to the Assassins. It looked almost exactly like the cross his uncle wore. Ezio grimaced as he slowly closed the book.

His uncle was his enemy, right from the very start.

If the Templar's still existed, did the Assassins? The book was very old, and he couldn't help but wonder it those old yellow pages were all that was left of the Assassins. Would he ever find a 'bureau', or ever recognise an Assassin by their white hood?

Was there someone out there still, or was he the only one?

* * *

Now we return to the present.

* * *

Ezio navigated the streets of Venice with ease, focusing on everyone who came into sight. It was strange, how he could tell who was friend and who was foe. Ever since that night he had found the book, it seemed whenever he focused on a person, they almost glowed. If they had a red glow around them, he knew he should avoid them, but if they had a blue glow, he knew that they were friends. It was unreal, outlandish, and frankly, it scared him, yet he depended on it so much when gathering information. Many times he had skimmed the book, but had never found an entry on seeing glowing people.

Maybe he really was mentally ill.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he entered a busy street. The crowds became thicker and the murmurs turned into shouts and hollers. A masquerade was being held in the town square that evening, and hundreds of people would be attending, including his uncle.

Tonight was the night, all of the months of training, all his studying, all of it would be put to use tonight, in just a few short hours. His uncle, as manager of the bank and a noble man, along with a few of his 'friends', would be attending this silly dance to give a short speech on the success of the financial system and entertain some guests. Ezio wanted to make sure he never got the honour.

He absentmindedly fingered his gauntlet, which he had made a few adjustments to before he had left Florence. The masquerade invitation he had found in his uncle's drawer turned out to be the key to his revenge. He just had to make it work. After months of planning, he would not fail now.

Ezio pulled his hood farther down his face as he entered a shabby tavern near the town square. It was filled with smoke and dying candles, and had a rank smell to it. He looked around the small room from beneath the rim of his hood. Men sat, drinking or drunk, creating a ridiculous amont of noise as they whooped at waitresses and called for another round. In one corner of the room he spotted two women, young, thin and beautiful that fit into his plan perfectly. Walking slowly over, he gathered himself together and prepared to address them. One of the ladies looked up, though, and called to him first.

"Looking for our service?" said the red-haired woman in a green bodice and skirt seductively, twirling her finger on the dusty table.

The woman in the red got up and began to circle him, like a cat who caught a mouse. She put a hand to his chest, and raised her brow at the feel of his muscles.

"And what can we do for you tonight?" She said softly, emphasizing the last words, her painted red lip stretching into a small smile.

As mentioned, Ezio was a very charming and seductive young man himself, it wouldn't take him long to get the two women to do what he wanted. Flashing his pretty white teeth, he moved in close to the woman's touch, placing his hand gently over hers and pulling it away, bringing it down to the side of them. After a moment he let go and began to speak.

"Yes, I would like a service from you, the both of you."

"Ooh," cooed the one in the red dress, circling him once more, inspecting him, "You're a little greedy."

Ezio smile again, the girls giggled.

"Lead us away then, my noble man," the red head called, standing from the table. She raised her hand as an offering, and Ezio took it, and planted a small kiss. Without removing his lips, he looked up into her eyes. The woman was in ecstasy.

"But first," he said, straightening slowly, "I would like you two to join me at the masquerade."

"But we aren't invited." Said the woman in the red dress, pouting.

"I am inviting you." He said

"Why, we have no masks to go in." The woman in green piped.

"A mask to cover your pretty faces?" Ezio said, gently stroking her face, "Nonsense."

The women brightened and looked excitedly at each other. Ezio continued, "As for your service, I'll pay in advance." From his pocket he took out a draw bag of money, and dropped it into the girl with the red dress's hand. Their eyes' widened.

"And one more thing . . ."

"Yes, anything," they said simultaneously.

"There will be a few men coming during the masquerade, just some quick business, no worries, but I will point them out to you. I would be grateful," he said hushed," if you brought them into the middle of the circle for me."

The women once again looked at each other, a smile playing on their lips and a mischievous twinkle in their eyes.

* * *

The pops and booms of fireworks filled Ezio's ears as he led the two women to the masquerade. The sky filled with sparks that rained down upon the crowd, disappearing moments before the hot specks could touch their heads. People in masks and bright, vivid costumes danced and twirled to the music. Laughter and singing could be heard from every mouth, and the air was filled with joy.

Ezio took the womens' hands and lead them in a dance, alternating between each one. It would keep them occupied while he waited for his 'guests' to arrive. The two seemed a little out of place, though, their clothes were fairly ordinary and their faces uncovered, they stood out more that he had expected, but Ezio did not think it was overly suspicious. Finally out of the corner of his eye, he spotted five men approaching the dance. Three guards walked briskly behind his uncle, who wore a white porcelain mask and the signature red cross, which shone brightly on his chest. Beside him walked one of his 'friends'. He recognized the man from the night his father died. This man also bore a red cross.

Whispering in to the girls' ears, he pointed out the men, and the women walked to the centre of the circle. They stood for a moment, deciding which man they'd take, then walked over.

_Perfect_, Ezio though as he positioned himself.

The woman in green took his uncle's friend, and without much resistance, began to lead him to the center of the masquerade. A guard tried to follow, but Ezio's uncle held him back and slightly tilted his head, watching carefully. He knew something was wrong.

The woman in red approached his uncle, but he refuse to dance. He waved her off, but she was persistent, and did not leave him. Ezio felt a sinking feeling in his chest. His uncle had seen through his plan.

_In that case_, he reasoned with himself_, I have to single him out. _

Ezio turned his gaze to the other woman and his uncle's companion. He seemed to be really enjoying himself; he had a smile plastered from ear to ear as he twirled with her and gazed up at the brilliant fireworks. The man never saw it coming.

Getting behind the man, Ezio watched him twirl, then started to walk closer. The man noticed his movements and began to slow his dancing, then, just before he completely stopped, Ezio thrust the blade in and out of his neck, and slid behind the man's back, holding him upright. The man gurgled and gasped, and raised a hand to his throat, which began to pour out blood.

The music stopped. The dancing stopped. All eyes turned on the man.

And as the man fell forward, Ezio appeared into view, his fist curled, the bloody hidden blade glinting like fire in the midnight light. Ezio fell with him, one knee pushing down on the corpse's back. Through the shade of his hood, he looked his uncle in the eye, sending a silent message and ultimately sealing his fate. He let a small smile escape him.

His uncle took a step back, and pointed at Ezio, his voice echoing angrily through the now silent dance floor. " Catch him! Rip him apart!"

The three guards accompanying his uncle ran toward him; Ezio stepped off a low fountain, meeting them head on. People screamed and ran in all directions. Total chaos had broken out. The first guard advanced with a broadsword. Ezio moved quickly, putting him in a headlock and delivering a blow. He threw the semi-conscious man to the ground and met with the second guard, who quickly brought down a knife.

Ezio grabbed the guard's arms, stopping the lethal object just inches above his head. Turning the knife on the guard, he rammed it into his gut and threw him to the ground, dead. He turned swiftly to face the third guard, who wielded a wicked looking halberd. The guard thrust it forward, aiming at Ezio's middle.

Ezio's sidestepped, pulling the weapon and guard forward, then struck a blow to his head. The dazed guard lost grip of the halberd and Ezio managed to wrestle it from him, kicking the guard back. Seeing an opening, he buried the weapon into the third guard's abdomen.

The first guard was trying to get up, but once he saw Ezio turn towards him with the halberd in hand, he cowered and pitifully tried to move away. Ezio cocked his head. _To kill or not to kill_. His mind returned to his uncle, who had taken the chance to escape.

He didn't have time for this.

Throwing down the weapon at the guard's feet, Ezio turned and sprinted in the opposite direction in pursuit of his uncle.

He followed his uncle as he ran down the streets. He was fast, faster than Ezio. Ezio decided to try and intercept him, since he wouldn't be able to catch him on foot. Veering off to the left, he stepped over a few boats and piers, launching himself towards a low arch. Catching hold of the ledge, he scrambled up the roughly carved rock. As he pulled himself up, he saw his uncle running over a bridge and into the market district. In the distance he could see the tip of a grand mosque rising with the sun.

Time was running out. He needed to get there and finish his uncle off before the mosque became crowded with peasants. He jumped from roof to roof, for it was faster than running on the ground. A few loose stones fell from the edge, splashing into the cool, dark water below him. He was able to catch up to his uncle now, and he watched him run from the rooftops. Ezio could tell he was getting tired. His uncle's pace had slowed and his head was hanging near his chest, which rose and fell heavily.

He continued to follow his uncle as he ran through an archway. He could hear his uncle yelling something, but the sound echoed off the curved walls badly. Ezio moved in closer, slowly this time. His uncle reappeared in the archway, straightening himself, ready to face his nephew. His uncle's face turned upwards; surprise flickered across his features as he beheld his nephew, perched on a ledge like a bird.

Ezio moved his foot forward into open air, and dropped down. The fall was a good fifty feet, and he hit the ground with a thud, crouched on all fours. Slowly, menacingly, he straightened, and walked towards his uncle. Now was the time, now he would get his revenge, for the past six months of misery and imprisonment, for the death of his father, for the deception of his family. Ezio had never wanted to see a man bleed so badly before.

"Oh, Bravo!" His uncle mocked, clapping his hands together. "Quiet an impressive display!" Ezio remained calm. He would not let his emotions show. That was the blade's work. Flicking his wrist and pulling the trigger, he unleashed his left hidden blade, his fury. He walked briskly towards his uncle, unaware of the dangers that lay before him.

"A pity I could not let your father live to see you." He said, a sneer crossing his face.

Ezio stopped and stepped back. Everything, everything he had learned, he had gone through, he had endured, was for his father. But only _for_ his father's sake. Why, then, would his father have wanted to see him now? He was a murderer, his hands stained with blood. He continued to step back, into the shadows. A piece of the puzzle was missing.

"As for your mother," he continued, "once I've dealt with you," Ezio re-sheathed his hidden blade. His hands clench tightly.

"I will be sure to give her my full attention," he finished, straining the last word.

Ezio anger flowed into his head, breaking his mind. Reaching to his gauntlet, he twisted a knob; the modification he had made earlier, his contribution to the grand finale. As soon as his uncle said the last word, he raised his arm, throwing back his wrist. From underneath his arm, a shiny, silver gun barrel pointed at his uncle. The same gun that had killed his father.

He pulled the trigger.

The deafening roar of the gun exploded into the empty market, echoing off into the distance. Pigeons and other birds took flight suddenly, and then all was silent. His uncle's eyes looked skyward, and glazed over. As if in slow motion, he fell backwards. Dead. The white mask flew from his face and shattered upon the cobblestones. The red cross was soon afloat in a river of blood.

Hidden soldiers rushed from behind the arch, failing to protect the man who had called for their help. They advanced forward with weapons drawn. Rounding the corner, prepared to face the assassin, they met with empty air.

* * *

Ezio, sat on the rooftop of a building near a sparkling river, far away from his uncle's body. He had sat there for hours, putting the clues together. His uncle, was a templar, he had known that from the start. But his father, how had his father come across that book, that insignia.

He recalled his uncle's words, _'A pity I could not let your father live to see you now.'_

The answer was clear now. His father had been an Assassin.

Ezio looked to the rising sun, reaching the peak of its journey across the vast blue sea of sky.

Hope.

Perhaps there were others like him.

"Somewhere," Ezio said slowly to himself, "I will find them."

* * *

**Authors note: Wooot! Assassin's Creed II!!**

**Alllllrighty.**

**I was watching the Dev diary for this, where they kind of explain Ezio's background, so I took that, merged it with the teaser trailer and filled in the blanks to create a really long one shot. Thats the basics. Enjoy!**

**EDIT: I fixed up a bunch of spelling and grammatical errors. Sorry it was somewhat poorly written before. I started at 12:30am and finished around 7:00am, so I actually didn't sleep. I had read it once through before uploading it, but being tired as I was, I missed several errors. Oh well, I hope I got them all. Thanks for reading!**


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